Honesty
by Rookblonkorules
Summary: An injury Dick sustains as Nightwing leads to Barbara being a little more honest about her fears. Just a short little slice of DickBabs fluff with some angst added to the mix. Gift fic for Meritt.


**Note: **This short little story is dedicated to one of the greatest friends in the world, Meritt. Happy birthday, Finno! This isn't your official birthday fic- in fact, this was originally part of an OTP challenge I began to take part in, but didn't have the time to complete.

The next one is coming and it will (hopefully) be more spectacular. (Read: Softer and fluffier.) But, as I ship DickBabs with all my heart and soul, I really have absolutely no problems with doing something extra for the couple.

Anyways, since the theme Meritt wanted was Dibs and... a couple others, which I won't share here because it turns out she forgot and it will now be a _surprise. ;) _Hope this tides you over for now. :D

* * *

"One of these days, you're going to die out there."

She stopped in her careful ministrations and pulled away from him.

His skin felt cold in the sudden absence of her touch. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine.

Dick licked his lips. His mouth inexplicably felt dry.

"Babs…" he said softly. He half-turned, extending his arm out, but she had wheeled her chair back, remaining just out of range.

"Don't 'Babs' me," she said, her voice tight and angry.

Confused, Dick turned full round to face her, gingerly swinging his legs over the side of the table.

He tried not to wince at the sight of his own blood staining the table, Barbara's hands…

She'd stitched him up with those hands.

"Barbara?" he asked.

Her eyes were hard as steel, teardrops glimmered in the corners and streaked down her cheeks.

He thought of her stitching him up, silent and tearful, and he felt sick to his stomach.

And what could he say to that?

"_Don't worry, Barbara. I'm not going to die," _was a cheap promise. One that neither one of them would believe. Not with the danger that came with the job description. The stitched up bullet wound in his side was a testament to that.

He was lucky it had done barely more than graze him. He'd seen Bruce come home with far worse.

Dick extended his fingers down to probe at the stitches.

It was Alfred's work, but she knew her way around with a needle.

It was a reminder that Barbara had lived that life herself.

And had the scars to prove it.

She ducked her face in her hands, breathing shakily.

"Babs, I've been living like this since I was nine," he said gently. "And you since you were fifteen."

She shook her head without looking at him. "You got lucky." She looked at him then, wiping away her tears with her thumb. "We all got lucky. But… anymore to the right and that would have been a shot to the gut. A spinal injury. You could have ended up like me. Or worse, Dick! I… I…" She gestured helplessly to her legs. "I don't want this kind of a life for you, Dick."

"Babs…" Dick slid off the table, wincing only minimally when the action pulled at his stitches. But he'd handled worse. He'd be fine.

He was on his knees beside her, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder, the other on her knee. "Babs, I wish there was a way for me to tell you I'd be alright. That I'd come home each night and it'd be true." He leaned in closer.

She ducked her head. The side of her face brushed his forehead.

Dick reached up, cupping the side of her face, holding her close to him.

"But there isn't. There isn't and I'm so, _so_ sorry."

She folded herself against him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her near, relishing her closeness.

"I can't lose you," she said. "I know why. I know why you do it. I did it too. I won't stop you. But if something happened… I'm not strong enough."

It was like a punch to the gut, hearing her admit to weakness out loud.

Because this was… this was _Barbara._

"Hey." He pulled back, brushing her hair away from her face. He gripped her face, blue eyes searching hers. He was serious. He needed her to understand. "No one's stronger than you, Babs. I don't want… I don't want to miss out on our life together." A lump formed in his throat. His voice felt choked. He pushed past it, instead focusing on her face. Her beautiful face. "But I know that you're strong."

There was a stormcloud in her eyes, unshed tears half-formed.

Something in Dick's heart twisted painfully.

"I don't want to have to make it without you, Dick."

"Shhh," he murmured into her ear. He grasped the back of her neck, hand entwining in her hair. "Shhhh."

"There's blood on my hands," she whispered, almost inaudible. Her fists tighten against his back, gripping his shirt.

"I know," he soothed her. "I know."

She took a shuddering breath and gently extricated herself from his arms.

He let her. She needed the space to get her bearings back.

She folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes were closed and she breathed deeply, regaining control of her emotions.

She opened her eyes again, focusing them on Dick.

"It… felt so different when we were out there together. Like we were untouchable. Like we could watch each other's back, but then…" she spread her arms in a gesture towards her legs. They weren't untouchable. Her suffering at the hands of the Joker was a daily reminder of that. "But having to wait for… and knowing what's out there, knowing you might not make it home."

She dropped her chin, shaking her head slightly.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered.


End file.
